Fallout of Trade Still to Come

The Kings don’t have to listen to me. I believe all ice belongs in a paper cone, crushed and tasting of blueberries.

The Kings don’t have to monitor the same Los Angeles sports current that daily jolts the Lakers and Dodgers. The average fan here thinks a Ziggy is a drink, and a Palffy is that little umbrella sticking out of the drink.

The Kings don’t have to pay attention to hardly anybody in this town, because hardly anybody pays attention to them.

But maybe they should listen to Don Burkholder.

A season-ticket holder for 26 years, he has lovingly attended 1,014 home games.

“The organization is a complete mess,” he says.

He has marveled at everything from the Triple Crown line to the Miracle on Manchester to the Great One.

“These people have lied to us at every corner,” he says.

In December, Burkholder was honored by the Kings for his support by receiving an autographed stick in a ceremonial faceoff that included Rob Blake.

Yeah. That Rob Blake.

“Another stupid hockey decision made by an organization that has made stupid hockey decisions for 34 years,” says one of their biggest fans.

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The worst sports franchise in Los Angeles?

The Kings have a billionaire owner who won’t pay for a winner and wouldn’t show up to watch it if he did.

They have a front office filled with business people making hockey decisions.

They have a fan base as small as it is ignored.

And, now, no Rob Blake.

Yes, as of the moment Tim Leiweke pulled the little string that picked up Dave Taylor’s little hand and placed it on the little phone that made the call that made the trade of their best-loved player Wednesday, the Kings are the worst.

They are the Clippers without the young stars.

They have been the Mighty Ducks for a quarter of a century longer than the Ducks.

But don’t listen to me.

Listen to someone who loves them.

“We are the Florida Marlins of the hockey world,” says Burkholder, 48, a sales manager. “We are the Clippers, Ducks and Angels combined.”

The trading of Blake and center Steven Reinprecht to the Colorado Avalanche for Adam Deadmarsh, Aaron Miller and some draft picks was the last straw, no matter how the Kings’ savvy publicity people are stirring it.

They will remind, and you will read, that they didn’t win a playoff game after Blake became the team’s main figure after Wayne Gretzky was traded in 1996.

They couldn’t win with him, the Kings will imply, so how much can his absence hurt?

If this sounds familiar, dust off that “Totally Cuckoo Transactions Involving L.A. Heroes” file.

The Dodgers said the same thing in 1998 when they traded Mike Piazza. I briefly bought it back then. I’m not making that same mistake again.

But don’t listen to me, listen to . . . well, you know.

“This team has a lot bigger problems than Rob Blake,” says Burkholder. “This team needs to look at what’s happening between the pipes.”

Oh yeah, but they were going to at least acquire a goaltender in any trade for Blake, right? Oh. Guess not.

“Rob Blake meant so much to so many people around here,” Burkholder says. “He and Luc Robitaille were the only players many of the average fans had ever heard about.”

The Kings will whisper about Blake’s lousy plus-minus rating. Somebody should shout about his rating in the dressing room, in the community, in the places where those even average fans could feel a connection.

You only go to one King game a year? If you buy a sweater, it probably has Rob Blake’s name on the back.

You only watch them a couple of times a year on TV? First person you look for is Rob Blake.

Now that he’s gone, those cries of “Luuuuuc” will sound even more lonely and hollow.

At least, as long as Robitaille is still here.

“What message does this send to the rest of the team?” Burkholder asked. “It’s like, if you work hard and have success and want to stick around, are they going to pay you the going rate? Nope. They’re going to cut you loose.”

There will also be much talk about that “going rate,” and whether Blake was asking too much.

While my knowledge of hockey economics is limited to the understanding that I can either make a car payment or take my family to a game, I do know this:

When the Kings asked the city for understanding during the usual hassles while constructing the Staples Center, team officials indicated that increased building revenue would help them bring contending hockey to Los Angeles.

If they can’t pay enough to keep Rob Blake, then let’s call a major misconduct on their credibility.

Philip Anschutz, the absentee owner who could learn a few things about accountability from even Donald Sterling, has the funds to build this team like Bruce McNall built it, only legally.

Yet he’s apparently not about the ring. He’s about the money. He’s about erecting wonderful, downtown, community-enriching structures . . . then charging guys such as Burkholder about $60 per game to sit there while he trades Rob Blake.

Burkholder was appreciative of his recognition by Anschutz’s organization.

But now he wants him gone.

“The answer is to sell the team to a local ownership group that wants to win,” says Burkholder.

Either way, he’s not giving up his season tickets.

“I’m a hard-core fan,” he notes, with a hint of embarrassment. “What can I say?”

How about uncle?

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Bill Plaschke can be reached at his e-mail address: bill.plaschke@latimes.com.